A/N: I'm not very sure what to say…don't throw any rotten tomatoes?

Anywho, I've come back with an update. I've had a hard time deciding whether or not to have this chapter and new chapter be together. I'm deciding to separate it into two parts, and if you don't like it, or I decide to change them into separate chapters - don't worry. There won't be any changing of the content if I decide on separate chapters.

Now, to reviews. You can skip this part if you want, because it's going to be long.

Laserbeam13: Yup, Barnacles appears in this chapter, and next…and pretty much every chapter after that, along with everyone else…yes, I made characters for all eight of us. The goslings going to be fluffy at first, and I mean like cotton ball fluffiness. Thanks for the compliment!

TheSameGuest/ArtemisCarolineSnow: Yay! You got an account. Even though I already welcomed you to Fanfiction, there s no reason to not do so here. CLAP EVERYONE, FOR A NEW MEMBER! And yes, we do need more Honk stories. There's already one up, in fact, by dreylag69. Check it out if you want.

GuestAgain: I don't know what those are…places in Britain? If you're wondering where the geese are…In a more rural, nature-filled place than London.

SmarterThanArty: Sorry, bud, this is one of those serious stories. :( But there's a scene next chapter including tea. You might find that funny.

-Guest: Good. You repaired your brain because I really don't want to get sued…did you say Trollstar or Trollestia, by the way?

Honker4lyfe: GASP! Thank you so much! I did check out dreylag69's fanfiction. You're right; it is pretty good!

Now the part of the poem, and you can start reading!

I'm scrambling an egg for my daughter.

"Why are you always whistling?" she asks.

"Because I'm happy."

And it's true,

Though it stuns me to say it aloud;

There was a time when I wouldn't

Have seen it as my future.

-From Egg, by C. G. Hanzlicek

Chapter Three

Dot had been right in wanting to get to the marsh quickly, because a few days after the two geese got into a routine of swimming about a little, eating delicious pondweed, and simply feeling free, she laid the first egg.

It happened, it fact, on the fourth day they had been there – enough time for Dot to add to finishing touches to her nest and eat more than usual, as when she would be laying on the eggs, she would not have a lot of time for eating. It was enough time for Greylag to make the acquaintance of some other birds – mostly mute swans –and to scout out the surrounding area a little. The egg laying happened quietly. When an animal gives birth, there is usually a lot of pain involved, but not birds. Birds just lay eggs, and wait for them to hatch, keeping them warm and safe, and Dot was no exception.

When Dot realized that there was an egg in her nest, she was suddenly filled up with a five second burst of horror.

What have I done?

It was more of an initial shock that they were, in fact, going to have goslings. It wasn't a daydream any more. It wasn't false at all. It was true.

The shock, horror, whatever Dot felt, was replaced with a burst of happiness. This egg – this creamy white egg in the middle of her nest – was what she had been waiting all her life for. She hadn't known it before, because she never knew what being a mother was like…but now Dot knew that soon, she might just be a mother. And that felt good.

When she told Greylag, that yes, there was an egg, he felt a rush of pride that came after a stunned silence, and like Dot, he felt the pieces of his life click together a little more. Both gray-feathered geese went to sleep happy that night.

Two more days passed, and Dot laid another egg. She tried to lay an egg every day. She succeeded only twice, but the rest of the time, two days passed. She supposed it was her body recovering from laying an egg and whatnot, but still, she was relived when ten days passed, and six eggs were in the nest, being kept warm by her feathers. Occasionally, Dot could see Greylag though the flickering spaces between the leaves in the bush. He was either talking to some of the other birds that lived on the marsh, or swimming back and forth, or preening.

Dot, far from relishing the chances she got to see outside, was lapsing into periods of boredom. She wished that one of the former mother birds that lived all the time on the marsh would visit her, and give her some advice, even though Dot knew that mothering was instinctual.

One day, her wish was granted.

Snowy, a mute swan came to visit. She had heard about Dot and Greylag – any newcomers to the marsh were known by all before a day was out – and the swan wanted to introduce herself. She also wanted to look over Dot's eggs, as she explained to a slightly baffled, but nerveless relived that someone had come, Dot.

The soon-to-be mother goose tucked some loose down around her eggs, and shuffled off for a moment to let the mute swan take a look. Snowy looked over the eggs carefully, noticing that two of the eggs were another white then the rest. It wasn't that noticeable, except to an experienced mother. And Snowy was exactly that.

After Dot had settled back down on her eggs, Snowy began her little speech.

"Dot, your eggs are really something."

"Thank you," Dot honked, pleased with the other bird's complement.

"Of course, I do prefer grayish eggs myself, but white eggs are nice as well. I've heard that some chickens can lay eggs besides white. You know, real green, blue, and light brown eggs, and not those fake eggs that get passed around in springtime. All those different colors, Dot! Maybe those humans do have some sense in making those fake colorful eggs."

"Maybe." Dot liked Snowy, she had to admit. The mute swan was old, about ten years in human time, and she seemed wise in Dot's eyes, although most of the time she talked about goslings, and cygnets, and eggs. It was almost laughable, but Snowy did grow serious one time.

"Dot, my mate and I saw this cat – I think a female – a few times. She's all black, with green eyes. Sneaky, too."

"A cat!" Dot exclaimed. "Has she spoken to you?"

"No," Snowy snorted indigently. "We've only seen her. I think she lives on a nearby farm, or maybe is migrating, and decided to come here to see if she could get some cygnets."

"Get some…that's terrible!"

"It's what cats do," Snowy shrugged. "I've met only on cat that seemed good –a brown tabby. A little standoffish and aloof, but at least she had no interest in eating swans."

"Mm," Dot murmured, wondering if any cats were good. It didn't seem likely.

Snowy glanced out the bush entrance. "Oh my! Look at the time!" Dot craned her neck to see that the sun was past noon.

"Now, if I were you–" Snowy started as she waddled out from the bush, but was cut off by Dot

"Don't worry," the gray goose told her. "I'll tell Greylag – my mate. He'll keep a lookout."

"Alright," Snowy honked, getting ready to take off. "And Dot, your goslings – love them. They will be the pride of your heart and the joy of your life."

"Thank you!" Dot called from her nest as Snowy soared up to the sky. "Thank you!"

Later, Dot would wonder why Snowy had given her that last piece of advice. It seemed rather old-fashioned, and besides, wasn't it a given that she would love her goslings? Wasn't it?

But for now, she accepted it.

"A cat?" Greylag frowned. They had finished their dinner of pondweed roots and grasses, and Dot had, after some hesitation, told Greylag about Snowy. "Are you sure that swan was telling the truth?"

"Yes," Dot honked, "She seemed to really believe it – I don't think it was just bad eyesight. Anyway, Snowy said her and her mate. Two birds have a better chance of seeing a cat than one."

"Oh, well," Greylag sighed, giving in for the time being, putting the possible mistaking of a cat in the back of his brain for the time being, "Dot, do you ever get tired of sitting on the eggs? Not that I hope you do," he added hastily. "I just wanted to know how you were getting on."

"I don't get tired of sitting on them very often," Dot told him thoughtfully, "It doesn't bother me as much, not being able to move about more. I thought as more time passed, it would get so I couldn't stand it, but that's the opposite of what is happening. I think it has something to with the eggs getting nearer to hatching."

Eggs could change, both geese knew that. They could seem as breakable to china plates to humans, yet there wasn't any denying that they change from hard shell and soft yolk to a living, breathing creature. China plates, however beautiful, couldn't do that.

"I'll keep first watch," Greylag offered, relieved that Dot and the eggs were all right, but wanting to get on with his nighttime duty.

"Not right now," Dot shook her head. "Dear, you need to sleep. I haven't had as much to do today, except sit, and you've been flying around the marsh."

Greylag agreed, and drifted off to sleep on the pond, leaving Dot to watch, keep her eggs warm, and think.

As the days, then weeks, passed, Dot stayed on her eggs all the time. She still felt a bit bored now and then, but a stronger urge kept her busy; one to keep her eggs safe.

One afternoon, Dot found that one egg had a crack in the shell. It was only just visible, but some motherly instinct could tell her that the egg was hatching.

Feeling that there wasn't a reason to wait in idle boredom for the egg to hatch, she settled into a more comfortable position so the hatching egg wouldn't be crushed, and slipped into a doze.

She found herself in the sky – the sun warm on her feathers, air currents flowing around her. The soon-to-be mother goose found an updraft, and took it. For a while, she flew around in the sky, completely happy to be able to stretch her wings, if only in a dream.

Of course, that peacefulness couldn't last.

Dot noticed a storm cloud nearby. She swerved to avoid it, hoping that she could avoid this cloud and get on with flying, but found herself stuck in the middle of the cloud. Literally stuck, because Dot found that she couldn't move.

Twisting and turning in desperation, she told herself it was only a dream – even though it was on its way to becoming a nightmare – and that she would wake up soon. She had to.

By some miraculous luck, Dot found that she could move her head, even though the rest of her body was paralyzed. It wasn't the best luck, she realized, as she turned her head downward to see two green orbs. They stared up at her, unblinking, never moving.

That was when she woke up.

Panting with relief, Dot suddenly felt a flash of terror, and a jumbled mess of thoughts rustled through her head like fallen leaves. Those green orbs…eyes…cat eyes…her eggs…were they safe…Greylag…Greylag!

"Greylag!" she honked as loudly as she dared. "Greylag!"

Meanwhile, Greylag was enjoying some nice grass nearby, when he heard Dot calling his name. Almost reflexively, he scanned the reeds surrounding him for the cat, or any other predators.

Nothing.

Taking off, Greylag swore he saw a flash of fur…no, a green eye winking at him. It was nothing, he assured himself. But he still flew faster.

Why was Dot calling to him? She knew that he would come back to the nesting site, usually after darkness fell. But it wasn't dark yet, Greylag thought, taking an updraft, as anything that would make him go faster was welcome. The sun wasn't even setting. It was still high in the sky.

As he landed in the pond next to the nesting site, Greylag was aware of a sudden silence. No insects were chirping, there were no frogs…and Dot wasn't calling to him.

Paddling over to the small island, Greylag quietly called out, "Dot? Are you alright?"

Dot poked her head out of the bush. "Greylag!" she gasped, "You're okay!"

"Of course I'm okay," Greylag honked, feeling confused. Dot seemed worried, and now she was looking at him with a mixture of relief and anxiety. "Why were you calling me? Did you see the cat?" he asked.

"I'm not sure," Dot honked slowly, thoughtfully. "I had this dream," she started to explain, as Greylag came closer, "I was flying, and it just felt so good, like flying after a molting time."

Greylag nodded. He could understand that, because flying after regaining your feathers did feel great, like being able to breathe again. But why had Dot been so afraid, of a dream of all things? The aviator goose captain didn't know what to do with dreams. They were pleasing, sometimes, but they didn't do anything to you. Unless…

"And then, this storm whirled up," Dot continued, "I tried to fly away, but then I got lost in it, and Greylag…" she shivered, making sure the eggs weren't being crushed at the same time. "I saw the cat."

"What?" Greylag honked, shocked, looking around at the reeds as if the cat might be hiding there. "You saw the cat? Where was she?"

"She was just staring at me," Dot shuddered, "In my dream. And then I woke up."

"And that's when you started calling me," Greylag clarified, feeling the shock start to ebb away, replaced by understanding. "Is that it?"

Dot nodded, "Yes, I just felt so terrified, I didn't know, really, what else to do."

"It was a dream, Dot," Greylag tried to make her think logically, "Just a dream. There wasn't any cat."

"Yes," Dot sighed. "I know. Anyway," she honked, forcing herself to sound more cheerful, "Do you want to check on the eggs?"

Greylag blinked at the sudden change in conversation, but then made a quick decision: anything that got Dot's thoughts away from her nightmare was good.

Dot stiffened as she felt something move under her. Was it a bug? No, it couldn't be a bug; the movement was too big for that…

Something gave out a muffled peep.

What if it is what I hope it is? Dot thought, plunged into a whirlwind of sudden mothering as Greylag looked on in confusion, not having heard the peep.

Finally, Greylag honked out a question. "Dot…what's happening?"

"The eggs," was the only thing Dot could think of to say. "I think they're hatching. Or at least one of them…"

Sure enough, there was a slightly damp wriggle under Dot, a small rustling in her chest feathers, and then…

A newly hatched gosling poked its head out of its mother's soft gray chest feathers, and let out an astounded peep at the world.

Geese, and most birds, don't have a great sense of smell, but if the two new parents had excellent smelling senses, they would have smelled the damp, new, slightly dusty smell of the newly hatched gosling.

The gosling looked up at Dot, and let out a wondering peep. Dot gave it a small nod, feeling a small lump in her throat, and gave a sort of a crooning honk back. It was the same honk that she had made to the unhatched eggs, so they could get used to her voice, and she was using it now to let the baby gosling know that she was its mother.

She succeeded.

Greylag, for a moment lost for words, suddenly came up with a military phrase Dot had taught him. "I guess one of our eggs finally got inducted, huh?"

"Yes," Dot murmured affectionately as she gently prodded the gosling over with her beak, checking that it was okay, "Yes, I guess you could say that our gosling just got officially taken into the military, but it's a good military, right?" Dot glanced up from her prodding to stare at Greylag hard, with the mother of all worries in her eyes. "No one's going to get hurt in a training session, and we're all going to live through our missions, right?"

"Right," Greylag promised as he reached down to see his newly hatched gosling better, "That's absolutely right."